


Captive

by DeadlyCrocker



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Amputation, Blood, Bloodplay, Dubious Consent, F/M, Medical Kink, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Oral Sex, Psychological Torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:00:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6419380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadlyCrocker/pseuds/DeadlyCrocker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some short, shameless, disgusting, Trager/reader smut</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captive

       You’re strapped down to the operating table, though you can’t recall how you ended up there. You don’t have time to ponder it. You have bigger concerns at the moment, like Richard Trager looming over your nude form. His bone shears are spread wide, letting him trace the sharp inner edge of the blade along the flesh of your arm. “Come on, sweetheart. Don't look at me like that.”

       He presses just hard enough to draw blood, moving the blade up your shoulder and along your collarbone. If you weren't already shaking from fear, the cold metal would’ve made you shiver. “Not afraid of a little surgery, are you?”

       He eyes you hungrily as his blade knicks your chest. You’re beginning to think torture isn’t the only thing on his mind. “You know, if I can teach you to behave, I might just keep you around awhile.”

       His blade traces down your hip and along your soft inner thigh. He presses to break skin again, only this time he leans in close, flicking out his tongue to lap up the blood. This time, your whimper isn't from fear. “You're a fast learner, aren’t you, buddy?”

       You can feel his hot breath between your legs as he speaks and, despite your situation, it drives you wild. You arch up as well as you can, given the way you’re tied down, bucking your hips towards him. He pulls back. “Maybe I spoke too soon. “

       He takes the bone shears away, closing them. For a moment, you think he’s going to set them aside. Instead, he holds them up high, before bringing the dull outside of the tool down hard against your shin with a sickly crack. You scream. He laughs, and then his mouth is on you, sucking at your clit.

       The pain coursing through your leg doesn't fade, but it's soon overshadowed by your building orgasm. In all your squirming and whining, you don’t even notice the repositioning of his shears, sliding open around the ankle of your undamaged leg.

       You’re _so_ close, gasping and moaning with each roll of his tongue. Before you know it, you’re pushed over the edge, crying out as climax hits you. That’s not the only reason you cry out, though. Coinciding with your orgasm, the bone shears are slammed shut; your ankle is severed, warm blood instantly pooling on the tile floor. As you come down from your climax, you realize the room is spinning.

       You’re blacking out, from pain, blood loss, or both. Nonetheless, you can’t help but think that being his pet wouldn’t be the _worst_ way to live out your days in Mount Massive.


End file.
